The Sanctity of Hate Read Online Free PDF Page A

virtuous femininity, as did her simple black robe, but the cor- ners of her eyes crinkled with merriment, revealing that she was well-accustomed to the vagaries of men. From this fleeting hint, the wise would know that any who tried to deceive her would, at the very least, suffer deep wounds from her wit’s sharp edge. “I do not sit with those who drink at my inn, Crowner. Gossip
    feeds on such things in the village.”
    “Surely nothing would be said if you spent a few moments with me?” He spread his hands. “I am an old friend, Signy.”
    “Friend? I might once have granted you that title, but you have long since lost the right. Now you ask to speak with me only when murder has been committed.” Her eyes narrowed. “It is not my virtue for which I fear but rather my neck.”
    He hit the table with his fist. “Will you never forgive…?”
    Sliding onto the bench opposite him, Signy bent closer and whispered: “Not ever, Ralf.” She quickly leaned back with a hearty laugh. “Now what do you seek?”
    The crowner took refuge in his ale, deliberately savoring the remaining drops as an excuse not to acknowledge all the
     
    meanings hidden behind the intense blue of her eyes. “A killer,” he muttered after hesitating too long.
    “Whose?” Signy’s tone announced that she had ceased jesting. “Kenelm’s body was found in the priory mill pond this morn-
    ing. His throat was cut.”
    The news caused a flutter of surprise to cross her face. “No one will weep when he hears that news,” she said. “I pray the killer did not have just cause for his deed, else many will protest his hanging for it.”
    “I know he was disliked, yet he must not have been without some merit. You told me you had hired him when the Jews trav- eled through here on their way to Norwich after their expulsion from nearby towns.”
    “And hired him again when another small party of them arrived a few nights ago.” She shook her head with contempt. “You speak of merit, but Kenelm’s merit lay solely in his broad shoulders, strong cudgel, and deep love for shiny coin. Many in this village have no tolerance for the Jews. Since my wages were high enough, he was willing to guard them against injury and theft.”
    The Crowner scowled. “Why is there so much ill-will here against the king’s people? They have never lived in Tyndal, nor are they ever like to do so. No one has suffered from their prac- tice of usury. Men of higher rank were the ones to quarrel with the Jews over debts, not ones like our blacksmith, Hob, or the new wheelwright.”
    Signy glanced quickly over her shoulder. “As I learned from a merchant passing through, the king ordered that the Jews give up usury and earn their bread by other labor. One of his unfortunate suggestions seems to have been that they might toil in the fields. The rumor spreads that Christians will be forced to sell or even give up land and other property to them without due recompense. One fisherman has hidden his boat so he won’t have to surrender it.”
    “That is untrue! When King Edward declared that the Jews might take land, he meant that they could buy it with proper
     
    compensation and only from willing sellers. No one will be forced to give up anything.”
    “Then you know the exact words of this Statute?”
    He nodded. “When I was in Norwich, my brother and I dis- cussed the implications at length. It was our duty to administer the Statute as the king intended.”
    “The villagers are not so well-informed, Ralf, and, as you should know, good sense rarely wins after rumor surrounds men with thick walls of fear.”
    Lifting his pitch-coated leather jack, Ralf swallowed the last of his ale and stared around the inn. Other than the pilgrims and traveling merchants, he knew the men here, some from child- hood but the rest for years enough to know they were neither better nor worse than God’s average creation. And that meant they were as capable of hate as they were of love.
    He